Oh
by art.nerd
Summary: A walk in the park.


Author's Note: a line ("---") indicates a change in the POV. Happy reading!

* * *

"Would you just look at that weather? It's really something."

"Indeed, it is, Captain."

"Well, we can't just sit around the ship on a glorious day like this…"

A sly grin.

"I believe some form of outdoor activity would be appropriate."

"Why yes, that sounds like a wondrous idea."

And so the two men walked silently down the street until they arrived at the park. It was already nearing dusk, (as it takes a great deal of time to walk from a starship to a park,) and most of the park-goers had returned home.

It was a late autumn night, and there was a considerable bite to the air.

Strolling along the quaint pathways that wound through the woods, the two of them breathed in the clear evening air. The scent was quite intoxicating.

An hour later, by the light of the full moon, the Captain and his First Officer sat on a wooden bench, somewhere in the labyrinth of trees. There was a clear view to the sky above, and they took the opportunity to admire the stars from this novel viewpoint.

An endless expanse of glitter.

The air had begun to turn cold with the absence of the sun, and they both shivered slightly as a breeze whipped past them. Each noticed the other's reaction.

He pulled his coat a little tighter around himself.

His friend pushed his hands a little deeper into his pockets.

It was unmistakable that they both were uncomfortable. They were also cold.

---

He looked over at him. His hands looked deathly pale. He removed his hands from their pocket-sanctuary and reached out to take his friend's hand in his own.

The skin was dry, chapped, and cold. He closed his palms around it.

---

He looked at the hands now holding his. They were pleasantly warm. He could feel the blood flow returning to his digits. He lifted his other hand, asking for it to be taken, too. His friend obliged.

---

He slid his fingers over the smooth, dry skin. Its warmth was returning.

---

He allowed his friend to keep his hands, to revive them. They were now a healthy shade of color once more.

---

Seeing that his task had been accomplished, he released the hands, and they fell anti-climactically back to their owner's sides.

---

On the inside, he made a tiny sound of disappointment. This time, _he _reached out for his friend's hand.

---

His hands were quickly snatched up and enveloped by ones he had just brought back to life. His first instinct was to withdraw. But he fought it.

---

Unlike his own had been, his friend's hands blazed with warmth. They were comfortable to hold. He turned them over with his fingers, taking in the texture, the temperature, every line of the palm.

---

Standing there, he was not quite sure how to respond to the situation. It was unlike anything he had ever dealt with before. But apparently, he did not need to respond.

---

He continued to examine the hands that he still held. There was also a growing feeling of presence. Not in the woods, but in his mind. It was comforting. He gave one of the hands a gentle squeeze.

---

The situation was becoming exceedingly dire. By now they were both standing, hands entwined.

---

He dared to look at his eyes. It was a mistake. The presence in his skull sharply jolted further into life. He slid his hand once more over his friend's palm, but did not stop there. He allowed his hand to glide under the coat sleeve, up the other man's forearm, and back down again.

---

It was perfect. His breathing quickened by a fraction.

---

Taking his cue from his friend's reaction, he took one hand in each of his own, and intertwined their fingers.

---

Quickened by another fraction.

---

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the contact. When he decided that that wasn't enough, he took one more deep breath and a step forward.

---

He was becoming increasingly aware of their close proximity. A dull flame burned beneath his skin. This was too much.

---

Now.

---

Now.

---

He leaned in slowly and placed his lips on his friend's jaw. And then he removed them.

---

The dull flame sparked into a blaze. He leaned forward as his friend drew away. Then he composed himself.

---

Again.

---

Again.

---

Once more, he brushed the skin with his mouth. This time, at the base of his neck.

---

Imperceptibly, his posture relaxed. But this time, he did not regain composure.

---

He was unprepared for the body in front of him to melt like that. It was a pleasant surprise. Pulling away to look at his friend once more, he found himself being pulled forwards. A kiss was pressed to his forehead.

---

There was no thought. There was no sense. Those were gone.

---

Closing his eyes, a ghost of a smile passed over his face. The presence in his head had intensified. By now, it had forged itself into something like a link. A golden thread between them.

---

He just stood. Hands still tangled.

---

He drank in the sight of the person in front of him. He returned the gesture by lightly touching his lips to his friend's forehead. But he could not stop there.

---

His friend's mouth was surprisingly gentle as it moved over his face and around his neck. A friendly feather.

---

He stopped.

---

He unwound one of his hands.

---

His lips hovered over his friend's face for what seemed like an eternity.

---

Placing his free hand on the other's back, he silently welcomed him.

---

The link was now unbearable. The two halves must be one.

---

The first half closes his eyes.

---

The second half leans.

---

There is no identity. There is no time. Only golden thread.

Silently joined, the One stood amongst the trees.

The air was still cold.

Under the beam of the moon, they remained on the bench, quietly admiring the stars.

An endless expanse of glitter.

THE END.


End file.
